I couldn’t let him out because we’d destroy part of the house in our rampage, not to mention exposing the existence of dragons when Mr Taylor came running to investigate what the hell was going on. But my dragon was looking through my eyes as I glared at Steven, who was advancing on me with clenched fists. Fury thrummed through everynerve in my body.
To my amazement, he stopped dead, staring at me, and ducked his head slightly. What the fuck?
Sadly, whatever was going on with him didn’t last. He shook his head and looked at me again, and I could practicallyseea red curtain of rage descending. He charged at me like a maddened bull.
It became a desperate dance for survival as I tried to avoid tangling with him, darting in when I could to attack his gut, his balls, his throat. I couldn’t land any meaningful blows. Despite his size, he was fast. Damned dragon instincts.
He’d backed me towards the balcony doors, and I yanked the brass standard lamp over, hoping to hit him in the head with it. At the last second, he sensed the danger and twisted out of the way so that the lamp crashed harmlessly to the floor, its delicate glass lampshade smashing on the floorboards.
“You’re a little shit,” he growled, and lunged. Jerking backwards, I tripped on the hem of a curtain and fell, crashing to the ground with him on top of me. Desperately, I reached for one of the shards of lampshade and swung it at his face. He reared back, swearing savagely, a line of blood blossoming on his cheek to match the stinging cut I’d just inflicted on my thumb. I drove my fist into his gut, hard enough to punch his breath out of him.
“What the bloody hell is going on?” I’d never heard a human voice sound so like a dragon.
Steven froze above me, breathing in painful-sounding whoops. James Fortescue stood in the doorway, his eyes snapping with fury. He was balanced on the balls of his feet as if he might shift at any instant. And then he noticed Nate.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“Exactly what I want to know,” I said, and shoved at Steven. “Get the fuck off me.”
He did, reluctantly, his gaze on his father the entire time. “You’re not supposed to be home yet,” he said.
“The client cancelled the meeting, and it seems that was just as well. What in the name of all that’s holy is going on?”
“I found Nate like this, and then your shit of a son attacked me,” I said, blood from my thumb dripping onto what was probably a priceless Persian rug. After a quick glance at Steven to ensure he wasn’t going to attack me again, I crossed the room and knelt beside Nate. He was still out cold. I tapped his cheek lightly and said his name. No response.
“Steven?” The fury in that voice sent a shiver down my spine, and it wasn’t even aimed at me.
“Mortimer’s been snooping. He told Ella about our plans.Yourplans,” Steven amended swiftly. “Mum told him to leave today, so I was making sure he’d still be here when you returned.”
“You were going to leave him in the middle of the drawing room and hope everyone politely refrained from mentioning the body on the floor?” James’s tone was acidic.
“I was—”
“For God’s sake,” I interrupted. “He needs an ambulance.” Where the hell had my phone gone?
Steven scoffed. “Don’t be so melodramatic. He’s only had a bit of Versed.”
“Steven.” The bass threat from James’s dragon vibrated through his voice. “What is Versed, and why do you have it?”
“It’s a sedative,” Steven said. He flapped a hand in Nate’s direction. “He’ll be fine in a while. Coffee will help bring him out of it.”
“And the second part of my question?”
Steven shrugged, attempting to look unruffled, though his body was tense as he faced his father. “You know what human bankers are like. Every bathroom’s a pharmacy.”
“Tell Taylor we are not to be disturbed. Make a large cafetiere of coffee and bring it up here.”
Steven glowered, though only once he’d turned away from his father.
“Oh, and Steven?” James said. “You’re going to be drinking some of it yourself, so I can be sure it’s not laced with anything.”
James turned to me. “Get him off the floor.” The lack of concern in his voice gave the impression he wanted Nate off the floor because he was making the place look untidy rather than for his comfort.
As I was gathering Nate into my arms, scared stiff by the fact he hadn’t roused at all and was completely floppy, the bastard strolled over to the bar and poured himself a drink.
I lifted Nate and laid him on the sofa, feeling the strain of his weight across my shoulders. I’m not small, but neither is Nate. It would have been easier if I had the sheer bulk of James or Steven. If I had, I might have been able to cut the fight short and get Nate out of here before James arrived. As it was, I didn’t know where this was going.
Steven was dangerous, with the power and lethal instincts of a bull. He could kill you in his fury but could probably be outwitted. James was a different proposition entirely and every hair on the back of my neck had been standing on end since he’d arrived. But I could do nothing to get both of us away, and there was no way I’d leave Nate alone with them.
